Name
by Landlady of the Universe
Summary: Ian's missing, but why should Sara care?


First off I would like to give a big thanks to everyone who reviewed Fire Escape.  And since everyone wanted more, this is the sequal-ish type thingy, but I don't think that it's really necessary to read Fire Escape to understand this one.  Please tell me if you like this, I'd love to hear what you think!

If you haven't signed yet, there is a petition to keep Witchblade going at http://www.petitiononline.com/Legion11/petition.html.

Disclaimer: Witchblade isn't mine *grumbles* if it was, I wouldn't have cancelled it.  The song is Name by the Goo Goo Dolls, one of my favs.

Name

Sara hated autumn.  It had been raining for a little over a week now; rain and motorcycles didn't mix.  Sara hadn't been dry for days and it was a miracle that she hadn't caught a cold yet.

Walking in the door of the precinct, Sara sneezed.

"So much for miracles," the detective muttered bitterly, grabbing a wad of tissues before sitting down at her desk.

Her partner, Jake McCarty, looked up from the opposite desk.  Danny's desk, Sara couldn't help but think.  It was hard to let go, especially when her former partner's ghost had a tendency to pop up at random.  "Got a cold Pez?" Jake asked mildly.

"Probably," Sara replied miserably before blowing her nose.

"Really? Damn, I was sure that you wouldn't get sick until after it stopped raining…" Jake trailed off and suddenly became very interested in his paperwork.

Sara wasn't fooled.  "What the hell is that supposed to mean?  Have you been betting on when I was going to get sick!?" she screeched.

The rookie flushed bright red.  "Come on Pez, you've been riding a bike to work in the rain for a week now.  Everybody's been wondering."

Sara tuned out the rest of her partners excuses.  Men.  She supposed that it was inevitable, but still, he was her partner.  Danny would have never done a thing like bet on when she was going to catch a cold.

"I wouldn't bet on that," Danny said from beside her with a twinkle in his eye.  "You've got a call," he added, blinking out before Sara could demand an explanation.

Her cell rang seconds later, nearly causing the detective to fall out of her chair in surprise.  "Pezzini, what?"

"Where is he?"  For a moment, Sara didn't recognize the voice.  She had never heard Kenneth Irons sound anything but calm and collected, so the tense undertone of his voice was a bit confusing at first.

Sara stood up at a confused look from Jake and left the office.  No doubt she was giving off a strange look as well, and she really didn't need the questions that he would ask later if she stayed.  "Who is 'he'?" Sara snapped as soon as the door to her office had closed.  She continued to walk until she had made it to the deserted training room.

"You know very well who," he hissed with such force that Sara jumped despite herself.  "Where is my Ian?"

"Your Ian?"  Sara couldn't believe that gall of that man.  "Just where do you get off treating him the way you do?"  The detective had a hard time believing that she was actually standing up for her stalker, but she wasn't about to let that stop her.  "It's sickening the way that you treat him, don't think that I haven't noticed.  If he has left you, then he probably realized what an asshole you really are."

Silence.  Sara seriously doubted that Irons was use to being bitched at.  So just for good measure she added, "And don't come crying to me every time something goes wrong."  Then she hung up before the businessman could think of anything to say.

With a satisfied smirk, Sara turned to go back to her office.  Ian Nottingham was standing right behind her.

And even though the moment passed me by

I still can't turn away

Cause all the dreams you never thought you'd lose

Got tossed along the way

And letters that you never meant to send

Get lost or thrown away

Later Sara would muse that she really shouldn't have been surprised.  After all, Ian did have an uncanny knack for showing up at the oddest times.  Never the less, Sara was still startled to see him there; it just wasn't right that a person his size could be so quiet.

Naturally, the fact that he had just scared ten years off of her life – again – caused her to be less than cheerful in greeting him.  "What do you want?"

Ian didn't reply, not really.  He only returned to his parade rest position, head down, as if … as if he was expecting to be punished, Sara suddenly realized.  Then again, that wasn't so surprising, considering the way that he thought of himself and the way that Irons treated him.  My Ian, indeed.  But if Ian wanted to be Irons' lap dog, then that wasn't any of her business.  Was it?

Still, she had to wonder exactly why Ian put up with the crap that his 'master' gave him.  Maybe he wasn't any more, she realized.  After all, Irons had been looking for him.  But why would he think that she would know where his personal assassin had gone?

And now we're grown up orphans

That never knew their names

We don't belong to no one

That's a shame

But if you could hide beside me

Maybe for a while

And I won't tell no one your name

"Well?" Sara demanded after a moment when it was obvious that Ian didn't intend to answer.  "What is it?  You disappear for a week and just show up, don't think that you can just waltz in here without an explanation.  Especially after I just bitched at Irons telling him that I didn't know where you were."

"I'm not going back there," Ian whispered without raising his head, so soft that Sara had to strain to hear.

And I won't tell em your name

"What?"  Sara asked in disbelief.  Did Ian just say that he wasn't going back to Irons?  "What do you mean?"  She wasn't quite sure what to make of it.  Always before, she had seen Ian as an extension of Irons.  It was hard to imagine him as anything else.

Scars are souvenirs you never lose

The past is never far

Did you lose yourself somewhere out there

Did you get to be a star

And don't it make you sad to know that life

Is more than who you are

Suddenly, Ian was not a few inches away from her, his finger slipping under her chin to tilt her head up to meet his eyes.  The man had no sense of personal space, but Sara wasn't thinking that at the moment as she was having a hard time breathing.

His eyes.  She had looked into them before and always they had been the same.  The amber orbs could have been glass for all the emotion contained within them; it was kind of creepy, like Ian was a stuffed skin, with nothing underneath.  Sara had gotten very good at avoiding that emotionless gaze.  But now, with no choice but to look, she saw past the glass shields that he wrapped himself in and saw the pain that he desperately tried to hide.

"I'm sorry Sara."

You grew up way too fast

And now there's nothing to believe

And reruns all become our history

A tired song keeps playing on a tired radio

And I won't tell no one your name

Sara blinked, but apparently Ian wasn't finished yet.  "I almost failed you.  I nearly got you killed, but I understand now, and I'm not going back to Irons."  He stepped back, holding the hand with the Witchblade and knelt.  "Please forgive me."

"Of, of course," Sara replied without thinking.  Of all the things that she had expected him to say, that wasn't it.  She did, however, take some comfort in the fact that, as usual, Ian's visit raised more questions than it answered.

Ian was smiling as he rose.  "Thank you," he said, pressing a kiss to her hand.  His beard tickled, Sara noted absently.

"So, um, what are you going to do now?" Sara asked.

Ian frowned a bit, thinking, "I'm not sure yet.  I, I really don't have a place to stay."

Sara smiled.  A week ago, she had caught Ian outside her window, watching over her in the rain.  Then he had disappeared, even the feeling that someone was watching her had been missing.  Now?  Well, now who could say?  All the detective knew was that suddenly she felt as though she had found a long lost friend.

Pulling out the keys to her apartment, she handed them to her friend without a word.  She couldn't be sure what was going to happen now, but one thing was for sure.  Ian wouldn't be spending any more rainy nights getting soaked.  And she wasn't going to be spending any nights alone any more.

I think about you all the time

But I don't need the same

It's lonely where you are come back down

And I won't tell em your name


End file.
